Arknightcraft Modpack (Steve in Terra) (Minecraft x Arknight)

After consuming nearly ten cases of cheap but high-proof alcohol, the only one left standing in the trade station was Steven.

It couldn't be helped. His Minecrafter physiology made it impossible for him to get drunk. Even if he didn't drink milk to cancel the "debuff," a bottle of alcohol would only cause him to feel nauseated for a few seconds.

Draining the last drops from the bottle, Steven looked around at the elite operators of Rhodes Island sprawled all over the place and wasn't sure what to think.

This group of uncles and aunties, collectively a few centuries old, still managed to party this hard. Truly, age wasn't slowing them down.

"Hey, Steve, let's keep drinking..."

With an empty glass in hand, Blaze stumbled toward him, reeking of alcohol. Her body radiates warmth higher than normal, creating a faint mist mixed with a unique scent of her body and her youthful fragrance.

"Go have a drink with Duke Zhou instead." (Duke Zhou is a metaphorical reference to sleep or dreaming.)

Steven pushed the clingy, drunken cat-eared girl aside with one hand, though he wasn't annoyed by her scent. He was more worried she'd throw up on him.

And judging from the two uncles heaving rainbows in the corner, it wasn't an unwarranted concern.

This group didn't even bother eating peanuts with their booze; if they didn't puke, it'd be a miracle.

Just as Steven dealt with the tipsy catgirl, the trade station's main door swung open.

A black-haired girl with twin ponytails walked in, pinching her nose. Her crimson eyes scanned the room before settling on Steven, the only one still sober.

"I agreed to let you rent this place for a party, but I didn't say you could puke everywhere. Who's paying for the cleaning fee?"

Pushing Steven's shoulder familiarly, the girl made a gesture that Steven recognized all too well.

She slightly bent forward, extended her small, white hand, and revealed her empty palm.

"Pay up" gesture.

Steven glanced around. The cat-eared Blaze, who had just asked for another drink, was now peacefully snoring, even letting out soft, adorable purrs.

As for the two middle-aged men, they were still locked in an embrace, puking into oblivion. Together, they looked less like elite operators and more like a committed gay couple.

Outcast and the other two auntie-level operators lay sprawled on the sofa, appearing as lifeless as corpses.

"Uh... if I said I was just an invited guest, would you believe me?"

Steven spread his hands helplessly. Normally, he was the one pulling scams, not the other way around.

"I'd believe you, but you're the only one still standing. New elite operator? Most newbies go through this kind of initiation—don't sweat it. So, will you pay in Lungmen dollars or something equivalent? Oh, and they didn't cover the booze either. Want to settle that too?"

Wearing a slightly oversized trench coat, the black-haired girl's crimson eyes sparkled. Her elfin, pointed ears twitched, but her outstretched hand remained unwavering, as if she wouldn't let him leave without payment.

"So, who are you? Coming in here and shaking me down for cash?"

Steven scratched his head, looking at the petite girl who was nearly a head shorter than him. Her elf ears and red eyes reminded him of Warfarin in the infirmary.

Rhodes Island really seemed to produce an abundance of beauties—especially crimson-eyed ones, who could easily steal the spotlight.

"Me? Oh, you asked the right person!"

"I am the Rhodes Island ship reliability engineer, SUPERVISOR of Rhodes Island, a brilliant system engineer, one of Kazdel's top 100 youth innovators, an advocate for open-source software, a recipient of multiple design awards, and an enthusiastic gamer—Closure!"

Rattling off a string of titles like listing menu items, the self-proclaimed Closure added, as if afraid Steven wouldn't take her seriously:

"By the way, I'm also the head of this trade station. All the booze you drank was painstakingly procured by me—it's all my blood, sweat, and tears!"

"Uh-huh. And what does that have to do with me, a passerby? How about this—you can go ask Kal'tsit. I'm sure she'd be happy to reimburse me for this."

Steven had already figured out Closure's angle: a textbook profiteer.

And dealing with profiteers was his specialty.

First, he distanced himself from the drunken mob behind him, then casually mentioned a heavyweight name.

Knowing Kal'tsit's cold and commanding demeanor, she'd definitely have something to say about her subordinates' antics. It'd be entertaining for sure.

As expected, the moment Steven mentioned Kal'tsit's name, the previously cocky Closure deflated like a balloon.

Not only that, but Steven noticed the supposedly comatose elite operators behind him all momentarily stopped their rhythmic breathing.

They're all pretending to be asleep.

"Uh... are you close with Kal'tsit?"

"Sort of. I'd say I'm a guest of honor. She personally invited me here and didn't mention any fees, let alone this."

Steven emphasized the word "fees," turning the tables to enjoy Closure's growing unease.

She seemed genuinely afraid of Kal'tsit—a commanding figure with an empress-like presence. Clearly not someone to cross.

"If you don't believe me, go ask her yourself. Oh, look, she's already at the door."

Glancing at his map in the corner of his vision, Steven saw Kal'tsit's marker right outside.

His grin widened. This was about to get fun.

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